A Fox's Way of Thinking
by Ibbledibble
Summary: This is Fox Face's Point of view in the Hunger Games. Hope you like! (Yeah I'm bad at summaries...)
1. A Fatal Mistake

Being alone isn't necessarily a bad thing. With no mother and father, there's no one to command you to do things. With no siblings there's no one to bother you. With no friends or family there's no one to love which means there's no one to lose. But it also means there's no one to cry for you when you're gone.

Chapter 1: A Fatal Mistake

When I awaken there is something foul in the air. I hop out of my small bed, quickly and quietly, just as I do every morning. I cross the room to look into the cracked mirror. A girl with a long face and sly features stares back at me. She is small and would be forgettable except for the large mass of orange and red hair that bounces in curls around her face. This girl is me. I should name her, I think vaguely as I run a partially broken brush through my hair. Yes, I do not have a name. No one knows me and I like it that way.

As I scan the one room house for my boots I think about today. The big day. It is the annual reapings for the Hunger Games, a big death arena used to entertain the people of the Capitol. I smile at my cleverness. I will never get picked since I have no name and no one really knows me anyway. I have already survived the reaping this way for three years and I am confident. I have no friends or family and I am usually unnoticed if I pull my hair back into a pony tail and wear a hoodie which is what I am doing now. I am preparing to go get some breakfast. Living in an old cottage with one room I don't have a stove or oven like most people in District 5 do. Therefore I have to use any means available to me to earn food. Obviously the solution to this is stealing.

I live near the market so the walk is short. Once I get there I can tell what the disgusting smell that I awoke to was. Black fumes rise up and curl into the air from the factories not far off. Of course on the reaping day no one here will get time off like most districts since we have to run the electricity all over Panem. I wrinkle my nose and walk through the cracked streets looking for suitable foods to eat. A fruit stand catches my attention. While the vendor is busy selling some strawberries to an elderly lady I snag an apple and shove it into my jacket pocket. When the stand is out of sight I take it out and bite into it, letting the delicious juice run over my tongue. This is pretty much my whole morning, snatching a loaf here, grabbing a bite to eat there. I continue to do this until I am, well, not quite full but at least staving off the hunger for now.

Hydration, however, is another matter. I'm not sure how it works in other districts but here in District 5 we are given a bucket to fill with water once a month. At the beginning of every month the Peacekeepers open the well to let the each family scoop up they're water. If your family misses the chance to do this then you're out of luck because they won't open the well again till the next new month. I have already gathered my water and so head back home for a drink. We're supposed to use the water for bathing and drinking but I see no point in baths so I just consume it, occasionally washing my hair in it, which is what I plan to do today. When I reach the house I scoop a small handful of slightly muddy liquid and splash it into my mouth. It washes out the taste of the food but it also dampens my mouth and throat which are dryer than the desert. After taking two more gulps I reluctantly stop and then stand up stretching.

I decide to take a nap since I have no family to support or a job to be working. As thin and bony as I am I am never tired since I mostly sleep all day. As I lie down I decide to allow myself one more gulp of water when I open my eyes since today is the reaping. I never do get that drink of water.

I leap out of bed as soon as I hear footsteps. My senses are alert and ready until I realize that the sounds are coming from people passing outside my house. A quick glance out the window tells me all I need to know. It is time for the reaping. I don't have time for a leisurely drink but I do take some water and splash it over myself, hoping it washes off most of the grime. I tear off my clothes and fly to the chest up against the bed. In it lays a plain, emerald green, spring dress. It is sleeveless with only thin straps to hold it up and it's the most expensive thing I have. It is also my second and last outfit, my first being a t shirt with a pair of jeans and a jacket. Next to it in the chess is a pair of matching green cloth shoes. Not very fancy but the color goes wonderfully with my hair.

Quickly slipping the dress on I pull my hair out of its ponytail and let it hang free. I rush as quickly as I can until I blend into the crowd that is flowing towards the main square. When we reach our destination where a large stage is set up the crowd straightens to form a line. Each person stops at a table to get they're blood draw. The prick doesn't hurt too much and it's only on the tip of the finger. After they take a drop I am directed to the fifteen year old section. A few minutes of waiting pass by and I tap my foot impatiently. I know I will not get picked, so why bother pretending to be scared?

Soon a woman with what looks like a ball gown on steps onto the stage. As she walks a few feathers that rest in her neon pink hair fall to the ground. I've never bothered to learn her name since she has nothing to do with me. She taps the microphone with a perfectly manicured nail that has been painted in a bright lime green. "Hello," She starts before the microphone whines and cuts her off. After messing with it for a little while, she tries again. "Hello! You probably all know me, Fergana Welts, the one who will be escorting one young man and woman to the Capital!" She squeals as if this is the most exciting moment in her life and then continues. "Of course before we begin there are a few things to take care of." While she speaks a giant screen is turning on and beginning to play. A booming voice rings out, telling the story of the Dark Days and why we have the Hunger Games. After the video is over Fergana gets up from the chair next to a slightly drunken mentor. I smirk, thinking of who will have to put up with him. She clears her throat importantly and then places her hand above the first fish bowl. "As always, ladies first." She says. Her bubbly voice and Capital accent is giving me a slight headache what with the way she ends her sentence in a sharp and high pitch.

Her hand is quick to pick up a crumpled piece of paper from the glass bowl. Her perfect mouth parts open in a slight "o" and she reads the name loudly, "Trissa Novellas, age 15." Everyone looks around in confusion. No one knows of a Trissa, and in District 5 everybody knows everybody. Fergana's brow furrows when no one walks to the stage. She repeats the name but still no one moves. Suddenly a girl with long brown hair glances at me and whispers to her friend. I am puzzled before I realize she must think that I am Trissa. More and more people glance at me. They don't know my name or who I am so I must be Trissa. The movement in the crowd does not go unnoticed and Fergana scans the people until her eyes lock with mine. "Ah," She says smiling, "You must be Trissa. Come on, don't be shy." "No." I try to speak but my voice is a hoarse whisper from under use and lack of water. No one can hear me.

Peacekeepers drag to the stage and lift me up till I'm standing next to the escort. She smiles at me and then continues with the reaping. I'm not listening though because I can't process anything. I shouldn't be up here. My name isn't Trissa. But no one will ever know that because my voice won't work.


	2. From the Empty Visiting Room to Paradise

Chapter 2: From the Empty Visiting Room to Paradise

The boy who is called up next to me is pale and shaky but he hides it behind a mask of strong determination and confidence. A girl who looks identical to him is shrieking his name, David, and attempting to get onto the stage, an act she is unable to do because of the Peacekeepers holding her back. David doesn't even glance her way. I don't understand how calm he can be. Perhaps on the inside he is terrified but at least he looks calm. I can't stop the trembling in my hands. Maybe it's because I'm not Trissa and I shouldn't be up here. Maybe it's because I knew I wasn't going to get picked but I did. Maybe it's because I wasn't expecting it while every other kid out in the crowd had a feeling of fear. I don't know and it doesn't particularly matter. What matters is that I'm up here and that my body is frozen. I want to cry, or scream, or do _something _but I can't.

A loud sound blares and my head snaps up in anticipation for horns maybe, until I realize that it's the anthem playing. Peacekeepers have stepped even closer to the stage and as soon as the music ends they jump up and grab at my arms and steer my limp body into large carpet. When they shove me into the visitor room it's all I can take. Although the push was light my knees are weak and I am falling to the ground. At first I try to cry into the soft, fur, carpet but tears don't come. I'm too dehydrated and I'm not exactly sad, not yet anyway, just scared. Since there is no water to block out my thoughts I sit up to view my surroundings. A plush couch is seated right under a window with the blind's drawn and curtains tied to the sides. A soft carpet lies neatly on a wooden plank floor and the glass coffee table in front of the love seat overlaps the carpet. Everything is dyed a deep burgundy pink, excluding the thin lace curtains and the walls which are both white. This is the visiting room.

A strangled sound escapes my lips and I am confused to what it is before realizing I find this room amusingly ironic. Why force me in this room when I will have no one visiting me? A hysterical laugh bursts from my throat. It doesn't sound like a laugh at all but it works for me. I am surprised I can even make such a sound. It can't push away the overwhelming fear, but it's good enough for now.

David's POV

I sit awkwardly on the stiff couch. It looks soft and shapeable but really it's stiffer than cardboard. The door creaks open and in rushes my two sisters, my older brother, and my mom carrying a young baby boy. My twin sister, who's fifteen like me, is crying. I know this must be painful for her since we've always been stuck like glue, but she shouldn't be crying in front of our littlest sister who is looking as if the world is going to end. Still, even as I think this, water threatens to pour down my face too when I look at the almost entire family. If only dad and Cal were here but they have jobs at the factory. How will they fare when they hear the news? Suddenly we're all rushing at each other and I'm engulfed in hugs. We don't speak, after all my family has always been a quiet one, but instead hold each other tight. And then the Peacekeepers are there. Shouting, lots of it. My twin throwing two objects at my feet. Unbearable silence.

I bend down to scoop the things up into my callused hand. One of them is bracelet woven out of wires to represent our district. This was premade as a district token, just in case any of our family members were elected for the Games. We never thought we'd actually use it. The other is a butterfly hairpin that my sister had put in this morning. A small note is attached to it. It reads, For Redhead. I smile. That's just like my sister to care about others, sticking her nose into things that don't require her care. The other contestant, Trissa I suppose, will probably already get a district token from her family. But the pin is a nice reminder of my twin. I will keep it.

Two cars are waiting for us when we leave the visiting room. One is for our escort and mentor, the other is for the two tributes. I slide into one of the sleek black cars. The smell of new leather is strong and comforting. I close my eyes, reclining my head to relax for a bit. I am startled awake by movement. The car is running smoothly through the streets, bumping a little when the road gets rougher. The ride to the station will be short, I'm sure. I look to my side where Trissa is sitting. Her straight red hair blocks her face from my view. "Hey," I start. Her head swivels around and a shivering young girl is sitting before me. And for the first time I see her eyes. Unlike the rest of her body they're not thin or unnoticeable. They stand out, a greyish blue-green, against her pale face and orange hair. Right now they're wide, soft, and vulnerable. I can't help but notice how they dart from side to side, like an alert animal.

"S-sorry." I mutter under my breath and turn away before she can see the blush creeping up my face.

Foxface's POV

I wonder if I have offended him with my silence until he apologizes. His voice is soft but my sharp ears catch the whisper. He thinks he's scared me! In truth I was trying to keep another hysterical laugh from bubbling up. Still I won't tell him that. Let him think me scared; maybe he won't bother me.

The ride is short but I'm still glad when I can be released from the stuffy prison. But it's out of the oven and into the frying pan, because when I get out cameras are all over me with my face clearly magnified onto a huge screen. I try to clear my face. I'm not sure what I want the audience to think of me yet. But it's hard with so many people watching me. Very unnerving. On the walk over to the train I even stumble. What happened to my cool and composed image? Before the cameras can get any more shots of my clumsiness I slip through the train doors where Fergana is waiting. She directs us to our rooms to "take a shower" and put on some "decent clothes." I stand in my fancy room like an idiot because I don't have any clue what a shower is and because I'm slightly offended at her comment on my best clothes. Finally I decide to find this so called "shower" and discover what it is. I hate not knowing things. It annoys me to no end. When I get to the bathroom I find a huge tub and something with many holes in it. When I turn a knob cold bursting water sprays me and I jerk back. Then I smile. The coolness is extremely refreshing.

I quickly strip off my sweaty dress and get into the tub, letting the water pound on my back. I let it run over me until the water going into the drain turns from a dark muddy brown, to a crystal clear. I also let a few drops of water roll over my tongue. The experience is exhilarating. Is this the shower? When I step out, the matt blow warm, dry air up until I step off. "Dinner, darling!" Fergana, or Ferg as I decided to call her, is calling me to dinner. My mouth waters at thought. I pick a soft pair of brown pants and a white blouse before brushing out my hair. In the full length mirror I have transformed. I'm still there but I look cleaner and paler. Oh yes, much, much paler. Before going to dinner I flop onto the bed feeling the cool sheets against my skin. So smooth and soft. So wonderfully soft. This is paradise I think. I close my eyes and a black haze settles over me, swiftly but silently, taking me far, far, far, away…

**Ok, so heres the second chapter! Um, if your reading this PLEASE post a review, I am BEGGING you, so I know how many people are reading this! Thx! :3 (Sorry if this chapters boring!)**


End file.
